


Professor Sybill Trelawney's Paths

by TheTitaniumSerpent



Series: TitaniumSerpent's SSHG One-Shots [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 19:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTitaniumSerpent/pseuds/TheTitaniumSerpent
Summary: Professor Sybill Trelawney's makes predictions close to the end of the fifth year. One-shot.





	Professor Sybill Trelawney's Paths

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing: every character, place and spell belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them.
> 
> English isn't my first language (it's my third), and I don't have a beta, so please forgive me for any errors and/ or discrepancies.

Destiny and fate are simple paths in eternity. Take a right here and you end up somewhere, take a left and you end up somewhere else. Our whole lives are simply paths to follow, our choices simple crossroads, and we all are fellow travellers on our way to great eternity and beyond.

There was a crossing of paths once for Hermione J. Granger. It was one of many she'd passed quite unnoticed. The O.W.L.'s were approaching, and Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Swot Extraordinaire, could choose to ignore Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, who were begging her to come with them. This path she'd entered when she'd chosen to help Parvati the week before on her Charms essay, which Parvati returned to Professor Flitwick and received an E instead of T.

“Come on, Hermione,” Parvati begged. “It's special. It's March equinox, and a massive power surge at Stonehenge has occurred. That, combined with unicorns giving birth in the Forbidden Forest, all in the same night! Professor Trelawney says it's such a rare and special occurrence, and she can read paths clearly tonight. Lav and I were promised we could sit with her tonight and have our paths read, and we get to invite someone with. I... we chose you!”

“You know I don't believe in all that, Parvati,” Hermione said, peering over her book on Potions. “The O.W.L.'s are coming, and we've got to revise! Besides, Trelawney was sacked, she's no longer a professor!”

“It doesn't make her any less a seer,” Lavender insisted. “And it won't take long. Please? Just come with us, it'll be great! You've helped us both, we'd like to do something for you too.”

Hermione could choose a left here, scoff and return to her book. In this instance she took a right and put her book away, rolled her eyes, sighed and rose up, following the two excited Gryffindor girls to Trelawney's classroom in the North tower. The trio climbed up through the circular trapdoor, Lavender squealing with excitement, to find Professor Sybill Trelawney sitting on the floor on some massive pillows. The air smelled of spices, incense, tea and dust. Trelawney looked serene and she smiled vaguely, gazing into a bowl of water on her lap. The water was spiralling wildly, colours threading through the ripples as it moved by its own accord.

“Welcome, children,” Trelawney breathed. “It is time to read paths. I sense you have doubts, but fear not, the paths are sometimes easier to follow than one might think. Sit, please sit!” she said, gesturing vaguely towards the pillows on the floor. Hermione sat on a pillow between Parvati and Lavender. 

The herbs Trelawney was burning in the fire were different than the ones she normally used, and Hermione began to feel light-headed. She did her best to concentrate on Trelawney's ramblings: “There's a major crossing coming for you, Miss Hermione Granger, a major crossing of paths and destinies... you are an important person in our world, far more important and crucial than you'll ever know... you are on a path that will lead you to a boy... you will have a marriage with the one you've wanted for many a year, two children, and a career, but it is a path that will not be easy. I can see many losses, so many innocent lives lost, hopes extinguished, but you'll rise victorious and have the one you've wanted all along, your lives at the cost of many others. You'll have your husband and you will be a good wife to him. You'll forgive him time and again when his eyes stray, when his thoughts stray, and finally when he himself slips to another bed, then another and another, all for the sake of your children and keeping what you think you've always wanted... and you will have fame and achieve many great things, bring a lot of good into our world, but your heart will never be satisfied and you'll always long for something you never knew you wanted. Until the end of your days there will be a deep ache in your heart. You'll have given your best friends what they wanted, but at a great cost for yourself and to others...”

 

Hermione noticed vaguely that both Lavender and Parvati were dozing off, leaning to her: Parvati was drooling lightly on the shoulder of her robes, while Lavender snored just a little bit and twitched in her sleep. 

“But if you choose to turn from the path you are on, there is another possible path for you,” Trelawney droned on, her voice misty. “It will also lead to victory, but at a much lesser cost, fewer souls will be lost to the darkness and the veil beyond. On this path you shall also have two children, but what children they will be, bright beyond anything you've ever dreamt of, inheriting wisdom and intelligence and love of learning from both their parents. This path, too, will be difficult, and it is dangerous, and many will try to turn you from it, but you will prevail and win in the end. You will have a marriage, though to a man you never dreamt of wanting, and he will be a loyal, loving and gentle husband, never straying from your side, supporting you as long as you both shall live just as you shall support him. You will achieve great things with him by your side as well as on your own, and they will give you satisfaction far greater than the other path could give.

“On this path you will face opposition from those you've relied on so far, and you must find the strength in your heart to hold on to what you desire. You shall need traits from all houses to reach your goal: the bravery of a true Gryffindor to go where you wish and with whom you wish to go with, the Slytherin cunning to win over the obstacles, loyalty from Hufflepuffs to stand by the side of another though many stand against him, and the wisdom of a Ravenclaw to see what is right. 

“Should you wish to take this path, you will find the crossroad very soon. It will come when the generals believe that all hope is lost, and the horns sound from the mountains to signal the arrival of reinforcements. When the moment comes, you may continue as you were, and your path will lead to where you are going now. But if you choose to put down your books and learning and take the path that leads of the right, you will come across a man who needs your help. He is broken, hurt, in pain and suffering. Find the kindness in your heart to help him, and he will give you his heart, as battered and broken as it is. It is yours to heal, and he, in turn, will heal yours, and together you shall stand strong in the coming storm and take shelter in each other. 

“Take a right, or continue on, the paths will lead to different places. In the end of both you'll be with him, though it'll take both your deaths to be with him if you do not turn from the path you are on, for he is your truest love and the destiny of your heart, if you allow it in your stubborn Gryffindor heart...” Trelawney whispered the last words, an unusually gentle smile on her face. 

“Now Lavender, my dear...” she said with a slightly louder voice, and Lavender stirred and woke up, spluttering lightly. “Your path, too, can take many directions, and much if it depends on your friend Hermione. The path you are on now will lead to ripping claws, fangs that bite in the light of the moon and I may not be there in time... but the second path will lead to happiness. Four children, beautiful children, hair of red and blond and smiles of freckles and mischief and love. It is a path that might be wrong for our Miss Granger, but is is a right path for you, should you choose...”

Hermione fought to stay awake, but her eyelids were just too heavy. Parvati, still leaning on her right shoulder, felt comfortably warm, and the scent from the fireplace felt soothing and sweet and promised sweetest dreams, and she promised herself she'd just close her eyes for a little moment and open them ver...

“Hermione, Lav, wake up,” Parvati whispered, shaking the two. “It's over, and Professor Trelawney needs to rest.” Hermione blinked blearily, and Lavender Brown stirred, her curly head resting on Hermione's lap. Her mascara had ran and her make-up had stained Hermione's robes: she smiled sheepishly and cleaned the stains with a quick flick of her wand. Trelawney had left, though Hermione didn't know when, and the three girls were alone.

“Aw, we should have thanked her!” Lavender sighed. “It was so fascinating, and I missed what she told you! You've got to tell me...”

“We can't,” Parvati said. “She predicted you'd say that, but she told me the paths and their readings are private, and that if you didn't hear something, you're not supposed to know it.”

“Oooh,” Lavender whispered, her eyes wide with wonder. “She's amazing!”

“Yes, yes,” Hermione said, trying to resist rolling her eyes. She was exhausted and it was very late. “The curfew's over, and if we're caught by Filch or Professor Snape, or even worse, Umbridge, we'll be in real trouble!”

“Professor Trelawney wrote us a note,” Parvati said and fished out a parchment filled with Trelawney's scribbles. “We'll be fine. Let's go to bed, I'm tired.”

Hermione sighed. The note would be useless, since Trelawney was no longer a professor, but there wasn't anything they could do.

They did run across Professor Snape, who appeared from behind a corner as silent as a ghost and twice as frightening, sneering viciously at the three girls. “Well well well, what have we here? Three Gryffindors who refuse to obey the rules?” he drawled, his voice smooth and black eyes glittering maliciously. “I shall see you all in detention, and that'll be...”

“We have a note!” Parvati squeaked, shoving the parchment to Snape as quickly as she could, doing her best to avoid touching his hands as she handed it over. “From Professor Trelawney! Extra studies for Divination!”

“For Miss Granger, who famously quit Divination with a massive temper tantrum in her fourth year? I think not,” Snape scoffed, opening the parchment. As he read it, his face contorted with disappointment. 

“Get to your dormitory immediately,” he hissed and crumpled the parchment in his hand. The three girls immediately rushed towards Gryffindor tower, leaving behind the angry professor.

“Merlin, Snape is horrid!” Lavender huffed as they crawled through the portrait of the Fat Lady. “Does he ever wash that greasy hair of his? He's like a vicious vulture!” Parvati giggled.

Hermione sighed. She'd wasted hours in Trelawney's classroom when she could have been studying for the O.W.L.'s. The next day was, unfortunately, Thursday, with a full day of classes, but she desperately wanted to revise. “At least he didn't say anything about Trelawney not being a professor,” she told them. “He could have taken points and assigned us detention. Umbridge certainly would have!” The two girls looked frightened, and Hermione shook her head. “I'm going to bed. I'll revise a bit before I fall asleep.”

Three days later, late Saturday evening, Hermione was in the library, revising for her History of Magic O.W.L., but for some reason the words of Trelawney kept buzzing in her head. She could end up with Ron, then? But he'd cheat on her. Several times, if Trelawney was right! But she couldn't be, could she? Ron was... Ron. Ron was her friend. Loyal.

Except he hadn't been. He'd abandoned her when he thought Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers. And he'd abandoned her when she'd told Professor McGonagall about Harry's broom. And he'd wanted to take someone pretty to the Yule Ball last year and asked her only as a last resort, then ruined her night when she'd arrived with Viktor Krum... 

But Trelawney couldn't be talking about Viktor, could she? She hadn't wanted Viktor for ages, she'd wanted Ron. But Ron wouldn't cheat on her, would he? Her traitorous brain supplied a memory of Ron arriving with Padma Patil to the ball, of Ron saying he wanted a pretty date instead of... well. 

But it was Trelawney! And Divination was such a woolly subject! But prophecies were real, weren't they? And Trelawney herself had made true prophecies. But oh, Ron...

Two children? A career? But the emptiness in her heart and soul, and the broken man? Hermione shook her head and tried to concentrate on the Goblin rebellion of 1752, but found herself stuck on a page, reading the same sentence of just before the tide of battle was turning for the second time,. Something bothered her, niggling in her mind. She read the paragraph for the third time:

'The battle was terrible. The goblins were attacking from the left, and dozens of wizards had died, with hundreds of wounded. Just when the generals believed all hope was lost, the horns sounded from the mountains to signal the arrival of reinforcements. The tide of the battle turned, and...'

All hope lost. Horns sounding the arrival of reinforcements. Trelawney's words. Put down your book and take another path, or follow....

Would Ron ever cheat on her? Would there be, could there be...? Many lives lost? But she had to revise! 

Hermione took several steadying breaths and looked at the sentence. It remained unchanged. Slowly she closed the book and walked to Madam Pince's desk, signing the book out. Madam Pince glared at her but did not comment.

The hallways were completely empty, not a single ghost in sight. Everyone was in the common rooms, the curfew was only thirty minutes away anyway. Where should she...? Hermione hesitated at the end of a corridor, and then took turned right, following the corridors, and let her feet lead where they wanted. 

She found herself in a narrow staircase leading to the dungeons, and was about to walk back up when a small sound alerted her: a small whimper of pain. There was someone in a dark corner, a dark bundle on the floor slouched up against a wall. Hermione lit her wand and walked slowly forward: she was, after all, a Prefect, and her duty was to help. “Hello?” she asked, “D'you need help?”

A muffled groan. The pile consisted of black robes over the skeletal frame of Professor Snape, who had grumbled into a corner. He was twitching, and Hermione noticed his robes were soiled with blood. Blood was staining the wall, a bloody hand-print decorating the wall where the man had tried to steady himself as he fell. Professor Snape's eyes opened, but they were barely coherent and glazed over in misery and pain, and Hermione gasped. 

“Oh God, don't move!” Hermione breathed, forgetting to swear by Merlin and slipping back to the Muggle vernacular, forgetting the respectful title of her professor, forgetting to fear the man and only concentrating on helping and saving the Order's spy who was clearly suffering and in pain. She forgot paths, forgot Trelawney, forgot about Ron and cheating and revising and began to recite the few healing spells she knew. And the second path blinked out of existence, along with Hugo and Rose Weasley. Minister Hermione Weasley ceased to exist, as did her frail marriage held together by stubborn forgiveness and constant heartbreak. Another path opened when the black eyes of a man she'd feared opened and locked with hers, and a tiny sliver of humiliated gratitude escaped.  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
**Annual Victory Ball, Ministry of Magic, London, July 2008**  
  
  
“Oh, hello, Professor Trelawney!” Hermione said and smiled at the older witch. Professor Trelawney was dressed in fine robes of blue, adorned by innumerable bangles, necklaces and amulets, her eyes blinking owlishly behind her thick glasses, but her smile was radiant when she recognised Hermione.

“Oh, Hermione, my dear, hello, how do you do? But I've told you, please call me Sybill!”

“I'm fine, thank you, Prof... Sybill,” Hermione said. “It's a surprise to see you here!”

“Yes, Parvati and her husband invited me,” Trelawney explained. “I rarely leave my tower, but it is a fine night. A special night! Parvati celebrated the founding of her fashion boutique at Diagon Alley today, you know.”

“I must remember to congratulate her,” Hermione said. “I've... I haven't thanked you yet, have I?”

“Whatever for, my dear?” asked Trelawney. 

“You read my paths once, years ago,” Hermione said. “On March equinox of 1996.”

“Oh! Oh yes, a great day,” the seer sighed happily. “Did it lead you to a good path?”

“Yes,” Hermione smiled. “Severus and I are very happy.”

“I read about your research on the Daily Prophet,” Sybill said. “A cure for the Cruciatus damage, was it?”

“Yes, although Severus did most of the work for that. We combined a potion to various memory charms with arithmancy. It was mostly to help the Longbottoms, Severus feels so bad for them.”

“Ah, yes. I read the tea leaves for Mr Longbottom when he came to see Pomona. The omens were in his favour. His horoscope looks good too. Stars seem to favour him now,” said Trelawney, beginning a long-winded explanation about constellations. Hermione didn't have the heart to stop her. 

“Lavender!” she heard Ron Weasley yell. Ron was attending the ball with his wife Lavender Weasley, who'd given birth to their second child half a year ago. She'd been pregnant soon after what became soon known as the Battle of Hogwarts, where Voldemort had taken his last foul breath. He'd attacked unannounced, but had been beaten by Harry with the aid of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore after the trio, assisted by Albus Dumbledore himself, had spent several months searching for Voldemort's Horcruxes. Harry had faced Voldemort and died, then returned to life just in time to kill the Dark Lord himself as he battled against both Snape and Dumbledore, fighting side by side. 

Lavender, the cause of Ron's whinging, had been dancing with Dean Thomas. Her figure was amazing, considering she'd given birth two two children, and people speculated she'd soon be pregnant again, if she wasn't already. Lavender's eyes met Hermione's and she winked deviously. Lavender knew Ron's eyes tended to wander to other witches: instead of brooding or fighting, she flirted outrageously with other wizards and even some witches, and Ron spent most of his spare time chasing other wizards away from his wife instead of chasing after various witches. Lavender had been attacked in the final battle by Fenrir Greyback, but Sirius Black had managed to blast the werewolf off before it took a bite out of her. The pretty Gryffindor remained unblemished and fought as viciously as a lioness, winning over Ronald Weasley's heart.

Remus and Nymphadora Lupin waltzed by, laughing at Ron who kept glaring at Dean, up until Tonks — she preferred her old nickname, and Merlin help anyone who called her Nymphadora — stumbled upon her own two feet, landing the pair in a laughing pile on the floor. Harry helped them up, but Ginny, now heavily pregnant, held back. 

Albus Dumbledore himself twinkled benignly and offered a sweet from his pocket to little James Potter currently perched on his lap. Little Jimmy stared at the marvels of the room with wide eyes. To the left Hermione noticed Colin and Dennis Creevey, both working for the Daily Prophet, arranging a group photograph of various members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix and their dates: Dennis spent most of his time trying to shoo Rita Skeeter away so that Colin could take their pictures. 

Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody was glaring suspiciously at Draco Malfoy, who was proudly escorting his wife Astoria on the dance floor. Moody squawked indignantly as Minerva McGonagall pulled the old Auror to the dance floor. The man moved amazingly well with just one leg.

Sybill's droning was stopped by Septima Vector and Pomona Sprout, who greeted them both enthusiastically. Hermione thanked the teacher of Divination gently, much to the surprise of both Sprout and Vector, who'd never known Hermione to be close to Sybill Trelawney. The two professors led Trelawney away, towards the punch bowl. 

Hermione felt warm arms wrap around her middle and smelled her husband: a combination of potion ingredients, his skin and his familiar soap and shampoo combined into an intoxicating scent that still made her knees weak. “Hello, dearest,” he said, his voice smooth and caressing.

“Hello, darling. Having fun?”

Severus scoffed. “No,” he said. “Shacklebolt wants to meet us tomorrow about a new project for the Ministry.”

“Both of us?”

“Yes,” he said, his hands surreptitiously caressing her sides as his body moulded against her back.

“Well, I think we can spared him an hour,” she said with a slight smile.

“If you say so,” Severus said absent-mindedly, his hands growing bolder and his lips kissing her neck in just the right way to make her feel weak.

“I take it you're ready to go home?” Hermione breathed.

"I think it would be for the best. The Weasley terror twins have just spiked the punch, and I don't want to be here when it takes effect.

"Damn, Fred and George are impossible! What'd they use?"

"Either some potion or cooking sherry. I didn't care enough to stay and find out."

"So, shall we go?" she asked. 

“Oh yes, dearest” Severus purred with low and silky voice. 

Hermione had intended to tell him about the pregnancy test and the positive result she'd gotten, but she decided to let that news wait a few hours. She and her husband made their escape from the Ministry, and she laughed as her husband growled and caught her in his arms and Apparated them away, leaving behind only the echoes of her giggles.

All was well.


End file.
